A Toast to Love
by thinkaman22
Summary: A depressed Syrene walks into a bar.


It was a rainy day in Frelia. All around, you could see people running to duck under buildings, struggling to open umbrellas, and closing up stalls. One peculiar sight was a lone woman, walking without any sort of cover. She wore a long, black dress, with white earrings and long green hair.

Syrene was walking silently down the street, her gaze piercing the land of nowhere, not knowing whether to watch where she's going or be lost in thought. She soon saw a pub to her right. Though she was never a fan of pubs, the death of a loved one tends to call for some irregular behavior.

She walked in, ignoring the lecherous glares from the drunkards. She sat on a stool, and called the bartender over to her, and he asked her to hold on, as he was serving some blond gentleman. As she waited, she had time to ponder over the event that transpired today, Gilliam's funeral. Thankfully, he died a quick, painless death. Shot in the head by a bone walker archer. He didn't even have time to realize he'd been shot. Syrene sighed- he survived the war of the stones, and yet he was killed by a few stragglers?

The barkeep brought her back to the hellhole known as reality, "What can I get you, milady?"

Her voice was it's same low, commanding tone, " The strongest thing you have. Leave the bottle."

"Sorry lady, but the strongest I got belongs to that gentleman over there."

He pointed to the blond he was serving earlier. He was well-built, and had his long blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Wait a minute, Syrene thought, is that-

"Forde?"

He looked up at her. His eyes seemed distant, Syrene thought. Little did she know she had the same gaze.

"Syrene." His voice was almost void of it's usual cheery tone, though it still was Forde.

"Why is 'the most beautiful knight in Frelia' out trying to get drunk?"

She laughed, "Not for the same reason as you."

He smirked, "Oh, I am. I was in love with Gilliam, too. He turned me down. Said I wasn't his type."

She stared at him. "Was it that obvious?"

He smirked, "I actually had no idea you were in love with him, at least until you told me."

She sighed. She just fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book.

"But seriously, Forde, why are you in Frelia?"

"I'll answer you question with a question. Why are you in black?"

She stopped. She didn't see him at the funeral…

"Here." He passed her a glass, filled to the brim with liquor. She took a drink., and realized this WAS the strongest stuff the pub had. It hit her stomach like a herd of wyverns, soaring right through the clouds at record speeds.

Forde looked at her with concern, "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, this liquor isn't strong enough."

He smirked, "I had the same problem. Anyways, I didn't actually go to the funeral. It's not my kind of atmosphere. The joker's not the card you play when someone's hand has busted."

"So why are you getting drunk?"

He looked at her, "I'm going to bare my soul to you right now."

She blinked, confused, "Why?"

"Because I'm drunk out of my mind, and you'll listen. It all started after the war. Princess Eirika announced her marriage to Seth. Now, I love the general, but I couldn't help but feel envious. I mean, he had the love of the woman I loved. Now, I'll admit, the two were perfect for each other. So, I couldn't help but agree to draw their wedding portrait. It was depressing. I looked at her, my lover only in paper, in the arms of another man. After their wedding, I retired, and tried to hook up with your sister. Come to find out, she and Innes were to be wed, spurred on by Seth and Eirika. So, my love was un requited on two ends-"

He was cut off by Syrene's tears.

"Why are you crying?"

He voice was uncharacteristically high, "Because I understand. When the war ended, I gave Kyle a tour of Frelia, as I promised him. At the end, he told me… that he was going to propose to Lute! I was crushed… but I saw how happy they were, and I couldn't dare mess that up! Then, I learn Gilliam died, and it's just…"

Now she was cut off, this time by Forde's arms. Then wrapped around her, giving her warmth and dryness she didn't know she needed. He refilled their glasses.

He put one glass in her hands, "To love that was never meant to be?"

She smiled, and toasted, "To love that was never meant to be."

They were both to drunk to notice that the love that was meant to be was right in front of them.


End file.
